


in the shadow of your heart

by ClockworkDinosaur



Series: Rosemary Month 2k17 [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Demons and Angels, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Rosemary Month 2017, demon hunter AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 05:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDinosaur/pseuds/ClockworkDinosaur
Summary: Half-angel Kanaya Maryam enjoys her work as much as one who does the dirty work of angels can, but when she gets a mission that endangers the fate of the world, she begins questioning her orders for the first time.





	in the shadow of your heart

**Author's Note:**

> starting off AU week with this cool and fun fic! special thanks to those in [the rosemary server](https://rosemaryserver.tumblr.com) for giving me the idea ily all
> 
>  
> 
> [fic title from this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJTSG8nhekY)

Black lipstick. Long crimson dress. Six inch stilettos. Gold and diamonds dripping from a long, elegant neck and slender wrists. It isn't the outfit one would expect to find on someone of angelic decent, but the perfect disguise for sneaking into an exclusive party.

The bouncer doesn't give the huntress a second look as she slinks into the darkened mansion, toward the buzzing ballroom. Multicolored lights pan over the gathered crowd, dressed even more opulently than the huntress herself and twice as provocatively.

She ignores them all. She is on a mission, and can't afford to be distracted. Blending into the party is easy when they can't see her, as glamored as she is. The spells rest on her skin like opera gloves, drape across her back like an invisible cloak.

Fitting for an assassin.

Eyes gloss over her and she is free to conduct her thorough search, looking at each face she passes intently looking for a sign. By the time she makes it to the other side of the expansive room, she is frustrated. If her target isn't in here, she could be anywhere in the huge mansion.

All she knows for certain is that she _is_ here, somewhere.

Another walk around the room, ignored by the party-goers. The huntress doesn't know the purpose of the party, nor the host. It doesn't matter. The only thing that she needs to know is the fact that there is a demon present, and that demon's shadow of a life would end tonight.

After an hour of fruitless searching, the huntress finally locks eyes with her target.

She looks nothing like a demon should. Golden hair, golden brown skin, violet eyes, and a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Surprisingly short in stature, her full form is complimented by the cut of her orange dress. She toys with a charm around her neck, standing alone underneath a balcony.

If the huntress didn't know any better, she would have thought she had found an angel.

The demon looks at the huntress coyly through her pale eyelashes. Slowly, so as not to surprise anyone, the huntress drops her glamors as she makes her way over.

“Quite the party,” the demon says, looking the huntress over with unhidden appreciation.

“Indeed,” she replies. “You seem rather lonely over here, would you care to dance?”

The demon offers a hand. “It would be my pleasure.”

 

Kanaya Maryam doesn't startle when a small fire starts on her desk. She only groans into her coffee, watching warily as the fire condenses into a piece of paper covered in looping gold script. A mission.

Sighing, she sets her mug down. She enjoys her work as much as one can enjoy doing the dirty work of angels can, but the hours could be demanding. It seemed more so than usual if she was honest; she was out hunting demons and terrible people nearly every night nowadays. A vacation would be nice, but there's no way she would ever get one.

She was born with one purpose only: to hunt demons. And that is what she will do whenever summoned until she is eventually killed by one. Such is the life of those of angelic descent born on Earth.

Kanaya has been luckier than most though. Many don't survive nearly as long as she has, something she credits to her levelheadedness and meticulous planning of each hit she makes. Earth holds many points of interest for her, and she plans on sticking around for as long as possible.

The angels seem to have other plans considering how often they are sending her out. She picks up the paper, thick and official in her hands. There is a demon who has been controlling the minds of humans and forcing them to sacrifice blood, limbs, and their own lives to appease it. Already, it has killed four.

Kanaya shudders and keeps reading once her revulsion settles.

The demon is only a few hours away, and going by the name Rose Lalonde. If she's lucky, Kanaya could get this job done within the day. She signs the paper and sets it aflame with a incantation, waiting for it to disappear into the air on its way back.

It burns to blackened ash.

She stares, waiting for it to do something, but it remains a smoldering pile on her desk. Perhaps she said the spell wrong, a flattened vowel or something. There's nothing to do about it aside from make sure the job gets done quickly. The angels don't appreciate waiting.

 

Rose is a picture of elegance, effortlessly graceful with one hand in Kanaya's and the other on her waist as she dances. Kanaya leads, subtly moving them both towards the hallway that leads from the ballroom. She does not notice how Rose sizes her up, doesn't notice the soft skin of her hand, nor the upturn of her lips as if remembering a joke only she would understand.

Demons can't be lovely, especially ones who kill humans for their own pleasure. Just because she takes the form of a beautiful woman does not make her anything more than a monster.

Kanaya has to tell herself that just a bit too forcefully.

Rose allows herself to be led near the door, and then out of the ballroom, her hand still in Kanaya's as she leads her further from the crowd.

“Perhaps you should get to know a lady first before dragging her off for a clandestine ravishing,” she purrs, and Kanaya can't contain her blush.

“My name is Kanaya,” she says, and then mentally kicks herself. That's her actual name, why in heaven's name did she tell the demon that? She's flustered, the demon must be playing tricks on her somehow. This can't end soon enough.

“Rose Lalonde. A pleasure to meet you,” Rose says as Kanaya pulls her into what appears to be an office. The only light comes from an old desk lamp, throwing shadows into the corners and the bookshelves that line the walls. A fireplace stands, cold and empty. It's abandoned and will probably be for a while. Perfect.

Before Kanaya can even get the door closed fully, Rose's lips are on her face, tracing her jawline. Softly, she nibbles Kanaya's ear and she has to bite back a sigh. Her hands slide up Rose's back, the silk of her dress fine and her skin underneath warm.

She only kisses back to keep up appearances, so Rose won't suspect a thing. Of course. Her lips seem to move of their own volition, parting and allowing Rose's tongue to dart across her lower lip. A shudder moves down her spine and even she can't explain that away.

Before her mind can turn too far into mush, Kanaya pulls out a tube of lipstick. The angels give the best gifts, and this one is a personal favorite: an invaluable pocket-sized arsenal. It is an easy glamor to dispel, and she does so to reveal a simple knife, glowing softly with a golden light. While Kanaya prefers the assurance and deadliness of her chainsaw, silence and stealth is key.

As the demon pulls away, looking up with a knowing smile, the huntress goes in for the kill.

She looks only slightly surprised as the knife slides into her back, lips parting and eyes barely widening. The blade parts silk and skin effortlessly, finding her organs within and puncturing her heart. There's a puff of black smoke and she's gone.

Kanaya looks around. Usually there is more fanfare, some remnants of the demon's presence like a parting gift upon the world. Instead, Kanaya is left with nothing but a clean blade, fading lipstick marks, and a chill she can't shake.

 

The pile of ash is still on her desk when she returns home. She feels the urge to sweep it into a trashcan, or out a window, anywhere else so she won't be reminded of the kill she made.

Instead, she goes to her room and undresses, laying all of her finery aside. The woman who stares at her in the mirror looks tired, dark circles underneath deep green eyes and black hair. A huntress should feel satisfied after a kill, but she feels nothing but exhaustion.

But sleep still doesn't find her easily, even as the sun begins rising over the horizon.

 

The doorbell chimes several times in quick succession. Kanaya bolts upright, blinking into the late morning sunlight streaming in through the window. It chimes again and she scrambles out of bed. Visitors are a rare occurrence, and apprehension draws her face tight and back straight.

The doorbell rings one more time before she can pull the front door open. She almost slams it shut immediately.

Rose Lalonde stands on her doorstep, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in accusation.

“Kanaya,” she says in greeting.

“I killed you,” Kanaya murmurs, barely audible over her pounding heart.

“You certainly gave it a shot. An A for the attempt, but a solid F in actually doing the job.”

Kanaya can only stare. Rose is dressed more plainly than she was at the party, in a simple white t-shirt and black skirt. Without her heels, Kanaya towers a head and a half over her. Her makeup is darker, black lipstick and shadowy purple eyeshadow. There is no sign of injury, nothing to suggest that she had been mortally wounded mere hours ago.

“It would be polite to invite me inside. You don't have to invite me, I could stroll in of my own accord, but it is proper decorum to wait until one has permission to enter another person's private property. Of course, maybe you don't understand that considering there is very little chance you were invited to that party last night,” Rose says, and that finally unfreezes Kanaya.

“I don't need an invitation, I was just doing my job,” she snaps. Rose smirks.

“And a wonderful job you did! Now, we have much to discuss.” With that, she pushes past Kanaya and makes her way into the living room.

Kanaya follows, her confusion melting into rage with every step she takes. She stands in front of Rose as she sits on the sofa, legs crossed primly and hands folded in her lap.

“Please, sit,” she says, as if this is her home and Kanaya is her guest.

“No! How are you here? _Why_ are you here? I ought to finish the job I was given right here and now, and I would if it were not for the fact I would hate to get demon blood on my furniture!” she cries, and Rose blinks slowly.

“So we both have questions. How about an exchange, answers for answers. Because this is your home I will oblige you first. I am here because I am a very powerful demon and a knife, even in the hands of one as capable as yourself, is not nearly enough to do me in. The worst you did was inconvenience me and make me miss the rest of the party. Oh, and you ruined my dress, so fuck you.”

Kanaya sits stiffly in the chair across from Rose. Underneath Rose's aloofness, disdain is palpable. The feeling is mutual.

“A shame, that dress looked lovely on you,” Kanaya says without a hint of regret.

“It did. Now, who sent you to try and kill me?”

“I can't answer that,” Kanaya says. “I am not being deliberately opaque, I mean the missions come in through anonymous letters sent by the angels. I do not know who in particular wants you dead, only that you have done many terrible things to people and you deserved to your retribution.”

“Well, I assure you that the angels had nothing to do with the attempt on my life,” she says, her lips pressing together into a thin line of barely concealed anger.

“Of course they did, not just anyone can call in a mission. Only angels,” Kanaya says. “Why are you here?”

“Partially to see your face when I showed up very much alive at your door. Absolutely priceless,” she says, eyebrow quirking up with amusement as Kanaya glares. “But also, you may be one of the only people who can help me.”

Kanaya bites back a bitter laugh. “Why would I help a demon?” she says incredulously.

“Ah, no, sorry, it's my turn to ask a question. What did your mission debriefing say about me?” Rose says, leaning forward.

“That you are a particularly nasty demon capable of controlling the minds of humans, and you use that power to torture and coerce sacrifices from them,” Kanaya spits.

Rose is silent for a moment. Then she begins laughing. Dumbstruck, Kanaya watches as Rose tries to reign in her laughter with very little success. It takes her a full minute to calm down enough to speak.

“Oh, that is such absolute bullshit! _Control minds,_ for the love of all the dark Gods of the universe, that is truly rich.”

“That isn't funny!” Kanaya says.

“No, I suppose it isn't,” Rose says with the same amount of humor. “However, I am no more capable of doing that than you are. Assuming halflings can't.”

Shaking her head, Kanaya stands. “You need to leave, you can't be here. In fact, I should kill you as I was supposed to,” she says, but makes no move toward her weapon nor the front door. Rose goes somber and sighs.

“Okay, listen. Here is why you should help me: we are under the same management.”

Kanaya sits back down. “Excuse me?”

“I know the angels have halflings like you to do their darker deeds, but there are some things those like you, nor the angels themselves can do. Some things are left in the hands of partially reformed demons,” she explains. If it weren't so unimaginable, Kanaya would believe her based on tone alone. angels employing demons? Unthinkable.

“You don't believe me.”

It isn't a question but Kanaya answers anyway. “Of course I don't. You're lying to save your skin.”

Rose rubs her face, fully dropping her facade of disinterest to show fear and discomfort. “Would I come to the home of the one meant to kill me with the intention of lying? I could have gone far away, let you assume you had truly killed me. I wouldn't be here to feed you unnecessary lies,” she says, nearly pleading.

She is right. Kanaya assumed the job was done. Despite the oddness of the clean kill and the ashes that still lie on her desk, she considered the mission over.

“Assuming I believe you,” Kanaya starts slowly, “why would the angels need demons to do things for them?”

“Who would understand a demon more than their own kind? Not to mention there are things that only we are capable of handling, not to discredit the strength of angels.”

“Things such as?”

Rose hesitates. Uncrosses and crosses her legs again. Looks at everything except Kanaya. The silence stretches on and Kanaya frowns.

“If you want me to even consider helping you, I need to know everything I can,” she says.

“I know,” Rose concedes. “Forgive me if I seem reluctant to tell you the secret I've been keeping for centuries.”

Another minute of silence. Kanaya waits as patiently as possible.

“There is something beyond our reality,” Rose starts. “Something unfathomable, insatiable in its hunger for suffering and chaos. The ultimate demon, large enough to swallow this and every other world whole. We cannot fight it and we cannot let it through. I, along with several other old demons, am tasked with keeping this demon sealed away. As tempting as the idea of all-out chaos is, I do live on this planet and I prefer it the way it is currently.”

The air seems to have disappeared from the room. Kanaya is reeling. An ultimate demon, all powerful and indestructible.

“The angels know about this?” Kanaya manages to ask.

“Yes.”

“They know you are keeping this ultimate demon from destroying everything.”

“Yes.”

“And they would not send someone to kill you.”

“Absolutely not.”

Kanaya puts her head in her hands. “I very nearly had a hand in bringing about the end of the world.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Rose says in what could be a reassuring tone. “I'm sure the others could keep the seal just as well without me. There really only needs to be one or two to do the job. As unpleasant as me dying would be, it would not spell doom for this universe. However, I would still like to stick around so if you could refrain from stabbing me again that would be wonderful. “

Kanaya can't help but laugh, a breathless huff that sounds pained to her ears. Her stomach churns with fear and confusion. Rose could be lying, but to what end? There is absolutely no reason for her to show up and tell Kanaya any of this.

“So what do you need from me?” Kanaya asks finally.

Rose wilts with relief. “I need to know who sent you,” she says. “I know you think it was an angel, but it is abundantly clear it was not.”

“Clearly... But I have no way of knowing who. I burnt the summons, expecting it to return to the angels. It is nothing but ashes.”

“Do you still have it?” Rose asks eagerly. Confused, Kanaya nods and goes to her desk, carefully collecting the ashes in an envelope.

“Here,” she says, giving the envelope to Rose. “It can't be very helpful, but may it put you on the right track somehow.”

“Thank you,” Rose says gratefully. “I know someone who can fix this. You are welcome to accompany me, I'm sure you would also like to know who impersonated an angel. Perhaps you could rain holy retribution upon them.”

Kanaya hesitates. Curiosity wars with common sense in her mind. Employed by angels or not, Rose _is_ still a demon. Kanaya _did_ try and kill her less than twelve hours ago. She should wash her hands of this whole ordeal and trust that everything will work out okay.

But she finds herself agreeing instead.

 

“Demons have siblings?” Kanaya asks as the elevator climbs towards the top floor of an apartment building in Texas. Rose had many demonic tricks up her sleeve, including getting the two of them halfway across the country in seconds.

“In a way. We are not born the same way humans, or halflings such as yourself, are. But we were created at the same time, and we have stuck together for centuries. I love him as a brother, and he tolerates me as a sister.” She smiles fondly as the elevator opens into a dingy hallway. Florescent lights buzz and flicker over a carpet that may have once been blue, but is now a dirty shade of gray. Metal doors with number stickers line the walls and Rose walks past each of them without interest until she stops suddenly. Kanaya stops just in time to avoid bumping into her as she raises a fist to knock.

Before she can, the door swings open. A man steps forward, leaning against the door frame casually, hands in his pockets. His eyes are hidden beneath a pair of black aviator shades, curly hair the same shade as Rose's hanging over his forehead. Even their features are similar, same broad noses and freckles and barely-there smiles that seem to hide a million secrets. But where Rose is short and plump, the man is lanky and a few inches taller than Kanaya, who has always considered herself incredibly tall.

“You're sixteen seconds late, and don't tell me you're _fashionably late_ because you look like a middle school goth chick who got a hold of her momma's make up and watched maybe one beauty guru on YouTube do a smoky eye thing. Even stabby over there looks more put together than you, and she doesn't have the benefit of a temporary death to get in some beauty rest. I'm Dave by the way, demon who grabs time by the balls and makes it my bitch, and I hear you tried to kill Rose. Do that again and I'll fuckin' kill you. She vouches for you though so you're okay in my book, you were just doin' what hunters do. Anyways, wha'd'ya need?”

He speaks so fast it takes Kanaya a moment to realize he had casually threatened her life. Rose smiles, a genuine smile for once, and holds out a fist. Dave taps his fist against hers and steps aside, letting the two in. The apartment is surprisingly well kept compared to the hallway. Afternoon sunlight filters in through the blinds, throwing bright lines across the red leather furniture. The walls are covered in framed photographs, from artistic black and white photos of abandoned buildings to extreme closeups of what appear to be crumpled up pieces of paper. Kanaya can hardly take them all in. It looks nothing like the apartment of a demon and everything like the dwelling of a slightly eccentric young man.

“I need you to return something to a state earlier in time,” Rose says, holding out the envelope.

“Oh shit, are you asking me to commit mail fraud?” Dave asks, looking into the envelope. “That's illegal Rose, don't drag me into this, I can't- I'm just fucking with you, could you imagine.”

He dumps the ashes into his hand, a few of the fine particles slipping through his fingers. They start fluttering in an invisible breeze before bursting into flames. Kanaya gasps but Dave doesn't react to the heat.

A moment later he is holding the mission, just as it was when Kanaya received it.

“Ta-da,” he says, handing it to Rose. She nearly snatches it out of his hand and reads it over eagerly.

“Is there anything you can glean from it?” Kanaya asks. Rose looks up with a bitter smile.

“It's glamored. A very light demonic glamor, undetectable to anyone who isn't looking for it,” she says. “I can dispel it easily.”

She holds the paper flat in her hands. It doesn't seem to change for a moment, and then for a second it almost hurts to look at. Kanaya's eyes and mind seem to disagree on what is there in front of her. The feeling passes, and the note is now something entirely different. What was once golden calligraphy on thick parchment is now scribbles on plain white notebook paper. The difference is almost insulting.

“They couldn't just find some nice paper and a gold pen?” Dave scoffs. “Motherfucker's too lazy to go to the office supply store and spend like five bucks on a nice pad of paper, they had to rip one out of a spiral notebook. Look at that shitty handwriting too, goddamn. I'm sorry your death was signed and delivered by a first grader, Rose.”

The words are the same, if much more hastily scribbled. The dark ink is smeared in places and the paper has torn corners. Rose glares.

“I was hoping for a bit more to go on,” she admits.

“A real shame they didn't use their personalized stationary for this, address stamped across the top and all. _For all of your fake assassination missive needs, from your local neighborhood dickbag,_ ” Dave says. Kanaya gets the impression he never truly stops talking.

Still studying the paper, Rose sits down. For the first time, she looks to be at a loss. “Dave, you wouldn't happen to know anyone who would be able to track someone down through handwriting, would you?”

“Despite my many expansive circles of friends, nope. Sorry,” he says with a shrug.

“I might know someone who can help,” Kanaya finds herself saying. The two demons look at her with raised eyebrows.

“You're willing to keep going?” Rose asks.

“I suppose I am.”

Rose smiles. “And here I thought you were just another wingless drone of the overworld. You surprise me, Kanaya Maryam. Let us not delay, where can we find your friend?”

“I've done my part here, I don't wanna be involved. Every damned creature for themselves and all,” Dave says. Rose stands and pinches his cheek.

“You know you would come running if I even began dialing your number, but keep acting like a hardass. I'll talk to you soon,” she says.

Dave sees the two out, but grabs Kanaya by the shoulder before she can follow Rose to the elevator.

“I was serious about fuckin' you up if you hurt her,” he says seriously, peering over his sunglasses with vivid red eyes. “Demons and angels ain't exactly close, we all know that, but remember you're on the same side. I wasn't kiddin' about having many friends and I will know if you screw her over.”

“I promise you, I won't,” Kanaya says somberly.

He pauses for a tense moment and then raises his shades. “I have a particular set of skills, skills that... uh, so on and so forth with that bullshit, I will find you and I will kill you. Bye,” he says, and slams the door in Kanaya's face.

“Did Dave warn you to be nice?” Rose asks as Kanaya enters the elevator.

“He did,” Kanaya says with a smile. “He even attempted to quote _Taken._ It was very endearing. He cares about you a lot.”

“That's my brother, the feeling is mutual. Now, where will we find this friend of yours?”

The elevator descends to the lobby, but the two are long gone by the time the doors slide open.

 

The house is just as ramshackle as it always has been, set half a mile from the road and surrounded by brilliantly colored trees. Fall has set the forest aflame, and Kanaya can't help but appreciate the beauty.

Rose, however, is far less enraptured. Her flats pick up the leaves and her feet sink into the soft underbrush. The relief is palpable when the house comes into view, but quickly turns to scorn. Peeling paint in a multitude of garish colors chip from the wooding sidings. Broken shutters hang from the windows, none of them the same color. It truly is an eyesore and Kanaya can't help but be thankful it's set so far back from the road.

“That is the home of the person who will lead us to my attempted killer?” Rose asks incredulously.

“It is,” Kanaya says. “Do not underestimate what lies within.”

Rose hardly looks convinced, but follows Kanaya without another word. The porch beneath their feet groans, the wood soft with weather and age. Kanaya knocks on the door.

No answer.

“Oh great,” Rose mutters. “We have caught your mysterious friend on their errand day.”

“Doubtful,” Kanaya says, knocking even harder. “Terezi, I know you're home! I will open this door-”

“Wait!” shouts a grating voice from within. “Dammit Miss Minty Fresh, I'm not even wearing any pants!”

“Charming,” Rose says dryly.

A minute passes before Terezi opens the door, glaring past the two. She is dressed garishly in a tie-dyed shirt and flannel pajama pants with little rainbow cupcakes printed on them. Her glasses are nowhere to be found, and her scarred, reddened eyes are on full display.

“What?” Terezi says, tone not quite unfriendly. “Why are you here with a demon, Maryam?”

“It is a long story,” Kanaya starts. “I need you to-”

“I have time,” she says, turning from the door. “Come on, present your case.”

Kanaya groans. “Terezi, we don't have time for this.”

Terezi sits on a bright orange recliner, posture totally relaxed. “No case, no help.”

“Kanaya killed me last night,” Rose says. Kanaya opens her mouth to argue. Closes it again when she realizes Rose isn't technically wrong. Terezi perks up in her seat, clearly interested. “We were hoping you could tell us who sent the order to do so.”

Grinning widely, Terezi holds out a hand. “Evidence please, Miss Black Licorice!”

Rose passes the paper to Terezi. She sniffs it, running her fingertips along the scribbled words. All the while, her grin fades into a sober look. Finally, she shoves the whole paper in her mouth, to Rose's disgust. Spitting it out onto the floor, Terezi _humph_ s.

“Well, it isn't good news,” she says. Leaning back, she presses her fingertips together and tilts her head in Rose's direction. “You're a pretty important demon, hm?”

“I am,” Rose says without elaboration. Terezi nods.

“Important or not, there is no way in hell you can take on whoever tried to have you killed. Your best bet would be to run.”

Shocked, Kanaya steps towards Terezi. “You cannot be serious,” she says. “We can't run, we need to bring this evil being to justice!”

“Under any other circumstance I would agree with you wholeheartedly, Miss Green Apple. You know that. But this is something else. Maybe I've grown too cautious over the years, but believe me when I say you need to learn to pick your battles. Wait for the winged teams to come in.”

“No,” Kanaya says crossing her arms. After a moment, Terezi cackles.

“You're picking quite the time to grow a spine and start back-talking!” she says, amused. “Fine, since you're bent on doing this, look for Gamzee Makara. It's just your luck that he's a few towns over from here.”

Kanaya smiles, relieved. “Thank you, Terezi. I owe you.”

“Damn right you do. Now go, run off to your death. I won't be there to see your souls off into the overworld. Or underworld, considering.”

With that, Kanaya leads the way out with Rose on her heels. When they are a distance away from Terezi's home, Rose asks that they walk for a while. Kanaya obliges, and the two make their way back down the overgrown path.

The walk to the road is quiet and Kanaya can't help but glance at Rose every so often. It is clear she's deep in thought, biting her nails while her eyebrows knit together. Somehow she manages not to trip while her thoughts are a million miles away. Kanaya is content to let her think. It gives her time to get her own thoughts in order.

Working with a demon is not technically against the rules. It's more of an issue of common sense, hunters and demons were so completely different that any allegiance would be too volatile to sustain. Not to mention the purpose of hunters is killing demons, first and foremost.

But helping Rose didn't feel wrong in the slightest. This was different, she is different. Every demon Kanaya had ever dispatched had been near mindless in their lust for chaos and evil. More animalistic in nature. Rose is one of the most rational people Kanaya has ever met. It doesn't add up.

“What are you, Rose?” Kanaya asks, almost to herself.

“A demon,” she answers absently.

“Is that all?”

She focuses on Kanaya and rolls her eyes. “I am also tired, gay, and absolutely sick of the woods. Is that what you mean?”

Kanaya laughs. “Not exactly. You're just so different from every demon I've ever come across.”

“The ones you killed you mean?” She stares Kanaya down until she has to look away from those accusatory violet eyes. “I won't deny that most of my kind are... chaotic. Violent even. After all, it is what we are bred to be. But there are many that tend to live rather quiet lives, feeding off the inherent evil of the world without sowing their own.”

“Inherent evil? That is rather bleak, don't you think?”

Rose shrugs. “Evil has always existed and will continue to exist as long as there is something walking this planet. It is a truth as inarguable as the sunset.”

“Are you evil?”

Rose pauses, tilting her head. “I never made a career of murder so maybe that is a question best asked to yourself.”

Kanaya gapes. “I- I have to! That is my purpose on Earth, to hunt and kill demons. I cannot be condemned for what I am made to do.”

“Have you ever questioned your orders? Considered that your employers may have had an agenda when sending you on your way? Don't answer, the fact that we are here is solid proof that you did whatever you were told blindly.”

Her hands are shaking, with rage or fear she can't tell. The two stand facing each other, eyes locked. She wants to argue, to throw words back that sting just as badly as hers had.

But she can't. She wilts, crossing her arms.

“You are right,” she says.

Silence stretches on.

“I am almost sorry that I am,” she replies eventually.

They keep walking.

“You are interesting, Kanaya,” Rose says once a few minutes have passed. “You could have returned home at any time. You don't need to come with me to confront Gamzee, I'm sure I can take him on myself.”

Kanaya only shrugs. She has no reason, no excuse for staying.

Or rather, she does, but she would never say it aloud. She would never admit that, despite their differences and arguments, Kanaya likes being around Rose. She wants to make sure she will be okay before going on her way.

“I should help take care of him for impersonating an angel,” she says finally.

Rose hardly looks convinced, but nods anyway. “I appreciate the company.”

When they finally make it to the road, Rose takes Kanaya's hand and the two disappear in black smoke.

 

There is something off about the town they find themselves in. The streets are quiet, the few citizens they find tense and silent. No children play in the streets, no warm lights from store windows illuminate the early evening. Fear hangs over the town like a shroud. Even Rose seems disturbed by the gloom.

The demonic energy present makes Kanaya's skin crawl with discomfort. She holds her lipstick arsenal in her hand as casually as possible, its smooth surface and the promise of protection reassuring.

By nightfall, they reach the epicenter of the demonic energy. An old church a mile from town, derelict and crumbling. The gravel pathway to the cracked stone staircase is untended, weeds and roots show underneath the smooth pebbles. Trees with untrimmed branches bow low to the brown grass. The church itself is in a worse state, with shattered windows and peeling paint. It is clear that nobody comes here anymore. The perfect spot for a demon to make its lair.

Before they enter, Rose places a hand on Kanaya's arm, stopping her.

“You can go now,” she says, her voice low and urgent. “This is a conflict between demons, you need not be caught in the crossfire.”

“Are you worried about me, Rose? I assure you I can handle myself,” Kanaya says.

“I know, I don't doubt you,” Rose sighs. She looks like she wants to say more. She settles for placing a gentle hand on Kanaya's face. “Just be careful. You may be part angel but I'd rather not see you die.”

“I will be cautious. I always am,” Kanaya whispers, hoping Rose doesn't notice how warm her skin is underneath her hand.

With that, Rose turns to the battered wooden doors.

The inside of the church has fared no better than the outside. Through the massive holes in the ceiling, the stars and moon shimmer, lending the barest hint of light in. Rotted and splintered pews line a moldy rug that leads to the raised pulpit. They both hold their breaths, afraid to disturb the stillness.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kanaya notices movement.

Quicker than she could have anticipated, she is thrown back by a solid punch to the jaw. She scrambles to a kneeling position just in front of the platform, her chainsaw in hand and teeth bared. The glow of her weapon barely penetrates the darkness. Rose hurries to her side, helping her up quickly. Standing back to back, they squint into the shadows, which suddenly seem much blacker than before.

A figure steps into vision at the end of the aisle with the casual slowness. Masses of curly black hair obscure his face, the dark glint in his eyes the only hint of any facial features at all.

“Gamzee,” Rose says coolly. At some point she summoned a pair of wicked looking needles; onyx inlaid with silver, over a foot long in length, and leaving strange shadowy afterimages in Kanaya's eyes.

“You're trespassing,” Gamzee says, almost amused. “Do you KNOW what up and happened to the motherfuckers who trespassed BEFORE?”

The shadows seem to close in, darting forward and grasping with bruising strength to any part of Kanaya they could reach. With a roar, her chainsaw slashes through the inky hands, dispelling them with the sound of old fabric tearing.

Gamzee looks up, teeth bared. “You're that hunter,” he spits.

“And you're the demon who made a terrible mistake,” Kanaya says.

“What do you know?” Rose asks. His eyes slide to her without losing any of their rage.

“I know that you and some other motherfucking TRAITORS are all trying to stop the inevitable.”

As he speaks, Kanaya creeps closer, the idle hum of her chainsaw drowning out her footsteps while Rose keeps his attention.

“You can't keep back the LORD of all DEMONS, _MOTHERFUCKER!_ ” Gamzee roars, and out of nowhere he's holding a pair of clubs, dented and stained.

The glow around them, though dimmed almost to invisibility, is unmistakable.

“Where did you get those,” Kanaya snaps. “Those clubs are angelic.”

Gamzee turns to her slowly with eerie calmness, his mad grin widening. “Where do you think, sister?”

Kanaya shakes her head. “This doesn't make any sense.”

“Not just anybody has the knowledge on what a holy missive looks like,” Gamzee says. “Not everyone just up and knows what lies beyond the gates. But I know. I motherfucking KNOW! They told me all about what these traitors are keeping back, and only I could possibly rain down the holy retribution these traitors deserve! Only I could clear the way!”

He's shouting, waving his clubs around for emphasis. Kanaya's stomach turns.

Gamzee is a former hunter. He is of angelic decent. And he is trying to bring about the end of all things by unleashing an ultimate demon into their world.

While Gamzee rants and Kanaya stands dumbstruck, Rose takes her chance. Lunging forward, her needle wands crackling with energy, she attacks.

A wall of darkness rises between herself and Gamzee, halting her in her tracks, and he sneers.

“Fuckin' TRAITOR,” he hisses before turning his attention back to Kanaya.

Suddenly, the darkness is absolute. Hands grasp at every inch of her skin, pulling and twisting. Her own screams rebound in her mind, amplified and distorted and deafening. Logical thought is gone, only the urge to run, to escape, is left. This power isn't angelic nor demonic, it's something beyond that.

Then her sight is returned. The world is dark around the edges, shadows twisting. The only thing she can focus on are Gamzee's eyes, purple and bloodshot.

Her head turns of its own accord until Rose is in her sights. She's watching Kanaya warily, chest heaving and jaw tight.

“Kanaya...” she says suspiciously, her voice a million miles away.

Kanaya lunges forward with her chainsaw roaring, like a puppet with a cruel master. Rose's eyes widen and she barely manages to leap away, standing above Kanaya on the platform.

She has no control. She is an observer in her own body, and can only watch helplessly as she chases Rose down with the intent to kill her. Rose seems to be taking no offensive measures, only dodging. Kanaya's heart breaks.

The demon cannot bring herself to raise a hand to her murderer.

With renewed emotion, Kanaya wrestles for control, her struggles only making the shadows tighter around her limbs. She does not give up, and she finds herself stumbling mid-step, allowing Rose to dart out of reach of the chainsaw.

Bolstered by her efforts, Kanaya attempts to change the direction of her lunge. She manages to end up to one side of Rose, putting her between Kanaya and Gamzee. Her entire body throbs with pain, every bone groaning and cracking under the strain of her own control, but still she holds on.

She makes short, controlled lunges towards Rose, dodging to each side to keep her between Gamzee and herself. She refuses to think about her plan, only letting instinct guide her. Gamzee swatches the fight with an expression of cold amusement.

When Rose is only feet away from Gamzee, realization registers in her eyes. Relief floods through Kanaya and she almost loses control, but Rose takes a step backwards and Kanaya uses every ounce of her strength to throw herself forward.

For a split second, Rose and Kanaya are eye to eye. There is a dark joy in her eyes, the look of a cat who has cornered the mouse.

Then she steps aside, and the chainsaw tears through Gamzee with no effort. Immediately, Kanaya is thrown back into her own body, her arms heavy and legs shaky. She lets the chainsaw go and collapses to the floor.

Gamzee falls a moment later, his final expression of rage frozen on his face as that darkness drains from his eyes.

Rose is by Kanaya's side in an instant, her expression a warring mask of relief and concern and victory. Her cool hands are on Kanaya's face, chasing away the phantom shadows that still lingered on her skin. Clenching her fists, Kanaya tries to get used to her own body again.

“What was that?” she finally manages to ask with a rasping voice.

With the dully surprised tone of someone unused to saying so, Rose says, “I have no idea.”

“Reassuring,” Kanaya says, closing her eyes.

“Don't you fucking dare die right now,” Rose says urgently. Kanaya opens one eye and smiles.

“Are you not capable of taking my soul once it's separated from my mortal body? An angelic soul must be a rare treat.”

Her teasing only earns her a glare. She drops her smile and opens both eyes.

“Rose, I'm not dying. That was difficult and unlike anything I have ever experienced before, but nothing I won't recuperate from,” she assures her, finding Rose's hand and squeezing lightly.

Sitting up and ignoring the throbbing headache that sends the room spinning, Kanaya looks at Rose. She is still for a moment, uncertain, before she leans forward and wraps her arms awkwardly around Kanaya. She is so close that Kanaya can feel her heart beating in her chest, a frantic drumbeat that slows down when Kanaya returns the gesture.

“You saved both of our lives,” she says, voice muffled by Kanaya's shirt. “Not to mention the lives of everyone on Earth if Gamzee had been able to complete his scheme.”

“I couldn't kill you again. I enjoy your presence,” says Kanaya without actually meaning to.

Perhaps she's only imagining the subtle heavy thud of Rose's heart. Perhaps she mistook the flutter in her own chest for Rose.

Whatever it is causes them both to pull away, flustered.

“Let's get out of here,” Rose says a minute later, helping Kanaya to her feet. Leaning heavily on Rose while she regains full control of her legs, the two leave the dilapidated church. The stars shine with silver brightness, almost blinding compared to the darkness of the church. Their glow is beyond welcome, and both women turn their faces to the night sky with relief.

 

The black smoke dissipates, and Kanaya is in her own living room. The familiarity almost drives her to tears, and she sinks gratefully onto her couch. Her aching body wants nothing more than to sleep for a thousand years.

Then she jumps up. She is alone. Rose is nowhere to be found. She scrambles to the front door, nearly tripping over the thick rug as she does so.

The streetlights are off, the neighborhood silent at the late hour. In the distance, a figure retreats down the street.

Her feet are thudding against the pavement before rational thought can catch up. It had been little more than a day since she had slipped a knife between Rose's ribs. Little more than twelve hours since they two exchanged barbs and poisoned looks.

But now, Kanaya can't imagine letting Rose walk away without a final word.

She catches up easily, and Rose seems unsurprised. She continues her leisurely pace while Kanaya catches her breath.

“Where are you going?” she finally asks. Rose half-shrugs, not glancing at Kanaya. The moonlight washes her out, making her golden hair white and skin silver. Only her eyes retain their lavender hue.

“I should let Dave know that I'm not dead first and foremost. I'm sure you have things to get back to, perhaps another mission?”

“I don't care,” Kanaya says, and Rose finally looks at her, eyebrows raised.

“Have I been a bad influence? I've corrupted the angelic halfling, what will our employers think?”

Kanaya's lips twist upwards. “I feel as though I've earned a vacation.”

Rose finally stops, turning to face Kanaya fully. “And what will you do?”

“I don't know. But I think that's the beauty of it.”

With a smirk, Rose puts her hands on Kanaya's shoulders and brings their lips together. Kanaya's hands find her face, fingers digging into her soft coils and bringing her even closer.

When they finally part, Rose's face is flushed.

“I have many things I could show you,” she purrs.

“And I have the time to see it all,” Kanaya replies.

Hand in hand, the two continue down the street. Black smoke obscures Kanaya's vision and she grins with excitement, ready to greet whatever she may find on the other side.

 

**Author's Note:**

> prospit/derse elements are my shit tbh ;0c
> 
> also limited edition typo in the title is gone now im a dumbass thanks
> 
> hope this was Enjoyable! comments are cool and good
> 
>  
> 
> [writing blog](https://clockwork-dinosaur.tumblr.com)


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